


Crossed Wires

by FancyPantsu



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone likes to pester Oda, F/M, Haughty Oda because that's what we all like, SPOILERS for the ending(s), Slow Burn, Some drama some humor some pining, Yes there is violence this is Cyberpunk after all, ptsd mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-24 07:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30069063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyPantsu/pseuds/FancyPantsu
Summary: Running out of time, V chooses what she hopes is the best option: to live the rest of her life without cyberware or enhancements. Unfortunately, this was the worst possible choice she could make. Fortunately, an enemy from her past decides to make amends, thus providing her at least a little respite from a downward spiral. But just what does Oda want from her and is she prepared to give it?
Relationships: Sandayu Oda & V, Sandayu Oda/Female V
Comments: 19
Kudos: 37





	1. The Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story: I didn't find Oda all that interesting until I read a couple of excellent Oda/V stories; now I can't get enough of him! So here's to you, Oda fans!

“That’s it? Those are my only options?” V’s voice raised in pitch. “Do nothing and die or hope somebody sticks my chip in some unsuspecting gonk so I can run around again? I’m not gonna do that to someone. C’mon, Goro, throw me a bone, here!”

“There is a…third option, but you’re not going to like it.” He cast a glance at her, then looked away.

“I don’t like the other two,” she said, folding her arms. The stakes were so high, higher than they’d ever been.

He took a deep breath and hesitated before speaking. “The damage to your brain cannot be repaired but it’s possible – maybe – to live a normal life without cyberware.”

“What do you mean ‘without cyberware’?” Her arms unfolded so her fingers could curl in air quotes.

“As you know, cybernetic prostheses interface with our neural implants. Without the burden the cyberware interfacing puts on your brain, it is possible to live out a normal lifespan, but you will never again be a netrunner or…”

“Or?”

“Or battle with enhancements.” He held her eyes this time.

“What about all the stuff I got attached to me? My eyes? My arms?”

“Arasaka could provide donor eyes and your prostheses would be replaced with low- to no-interface versions. No data port. No upgrades. Ever.”

“Fine, do it,” she waved a hand dismissively. “Sign me up.”

“V, I don’t think you understand-”

“Don’t got a choice, do I? I can learn how to live without my sexy super powers. Netrunning’s more dangerous now anyway, with the blackwall getting even more weird, so let’s go.”

Goro sighed and nodded, standing. “If that is what you wish.”

“Yeah, I do. No other choice, here. And Goro? You always look out for me. Thanks for being my choom.” She clapped a hand on his shoulder, then gave it an affectionate squeeze.

“I hope you still feel that way after this is done, V.”

* * *

She might have considered all the choices that brought her to this moment: trying to wriggle out of a pile of garbage upon which she had been unceremoniously thrown. Maybe she shouldn’t have returned to Night City. Maybe she should have gone to live with Panam and the Aldecaldos. Maybe Goro was right, and this had been the worst option. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“Can you not?!” she hollered at the furious, black-clad form before her.

The figure in question clenched his fists, stalking towards her, upper lip curled into a snarl. “Get up and fight me, vagrant! I demand a rematch!”

Finally, V rolled out of the pile and stood, then dusted off her arms and chest while he glowered. “No can do, Oda-kun, so cool your jets. Wouldn’t be a fair fight, you still got all your...” she waved in his general direction “attachments. Sounds dirty when I say it like that, I guess,” she added as an afterthought.

His face registered surprise, then quickly returned to anger. “What do you mean?”

“Scan me, you moron. I don’t have…” she paused, glancing away, then back to him. Something in her gut twisted. Hard. “I don’t have my cyberware anymore.”

Ice-blue eyes flickered over her form. He straightened and lifted his chin, fists uncurling, relaxing. “So you do not. How disappointing.”

“Oh yeah? For me, too, pal. Why are you here, anyway, and not back in Japan with Goro?”

“That is none of your concern.” How he managed to look so haughty and yet so pretty was a mystery.

“Hanako, I bet. Yeah. Give her my regards. Two and a half months and I’m no worse for wear.” _Externally_.

He snorted softly and turned to go. “A pity we cannot have a true fight. I would prove how much better a warrior I am.”

“Oh please,” V smirked, knowing she’d regret what she was about to say but barreling on anyway, “You folded like a cheap table under me. All your fancy posing and ninja gear - which, by the way, you should read a book sometime because ninjas weren’t even a thing like that, they-”

In an instant, he surged forward, hand clutching her jaw as he leaned in, eyes boring into hers with cruel intention. “Watch your tongue, filthy thief. You don’t know me.” His grip was just this side of painful.

“You don’t know me, either, discount ninja.” She glared back, unshrinking. Daring.

His eyes narrowed and after a beat, he released her jaw with a slight shove. “I suppose I do not.”

She considered making another smart retort but let him leave without incident, though she stuck her tongue out at his back.

Two and a half months down, a lifetime to go.

* * *

Four months passed; a lifetime.

The bar was small and reasonably clean, as the bartender wiped down the countertop with fastidious grace. The location was quiet, since V could no longer tune out the thumping bass and screeching vocals of her previous hangouts.

“Yeah, yeah,” she hiccupped, waving a hand at the disinterested man next to her. “See, I didn’t wanna put the Aldecaldos in danger for my dumb ass, so I just took, y’know, my choom, fancy-dressed Arasaka guy, we went ‘n’ took ‘em down. Yeah…” She swirled the drink in her hand, staring at it. “Miss ‘em, though. They said I should visit but what good am I to ‘em now?”

“Uh huh,” the man said, not even bothering to feign interest.

“So like I was sayin’,” she paused to take a big swig of the drink – clearly not her first of the night. “No good work for a merc when y’don’t got the hook-ups, am I right? M’right. Yeah,” she nodded solemnly, voice dropping.

“Yeah, uhhh, I gotta go,” the man stood, gave a half-hearted wave before hopping off the stool and shuffling down the bar a bit. He didn’t exit.

“Mm, right, right, see ya.” V peered into her glass after swirling the few droplets left. She sighed, downing the contents, tilting her head back, farther and farther, until the stool’s weight shifted, and the back legs skidded forward.

She careened backwards, but never met the floor; strong arms caught her, yanking her to her feet while a hand grabbed the falling glass. V didn’t yet raise her head, afraid she might vomit.

“I grew tired of waiting for you to finish,” came the smooth, familiar voice. The well-cut, Arasaka-themed business suit was quite familiar as well. The glass made no sound as he set it on the bar.

 _Goddamn_.

V’s eyes rose and she met that cold blue gaze. “The fuck? Why you waitin’ for me? Whaddayawant?”

Oda’s nose wrinkled for a moment. “You stink of cheap alcohol.”

The bartender’s voice snarked out a reply, “I only serve the best here, buddy.” Oda ignored him.

“Takemura-san is worried about you.”

“Oh, uhh, yeah,” V looked away, a trickle of guilt easing its way down the center of her chest. “I’ve been busy.”

“Drinking?”

“Sometimes, but mostly jus’…y’know, walkin’ around. If Goro’s so worried, why’s he not here himself? Huh?”

“He is in Japan, tending to Arasaka-sama. I am here, in this gods-forsaken city, seeing to Hanako-sama’s security.”

“Then go secure her or whatever you…whatever you do.” She waved a hand to dismiss him. “Get outta here and lemme be alone.”

“As it happens, Takemura-san is concerned you are much _too_ alone. It seems his fears were well-founded.”

“Whatever.”

“You don’t answer his phone calls or texts.”

V pulled back, slumping down onto the stool. “The hell am I supposed to say, huh? ‘Oh hi, Goro-kun, sorry I can’t keep my shit together. Can I be an emotional drain on you ‘cause that’d be great.’ Like that? Can’t even…can’t even talk to him right anymore. In my head.” Arasaka was kind enough to provide her with organic donor eyes the same color as her natural shade. A shade she hadn’t known for years.

Oda arched one disapproving brow ever-so-slightly.

“You’re killin’ my buzz, man. Just go, OK? Leave me alone. Please.” She swiveled, facing the bar, hating the way her voice sounded so defeated.

His voice was right beside her ear. “Takemura-san would be very disappointed indeed if I gave up as easily as you have. He suggested I investigate your home for signs of depression.”

“Wanna know if I’m depressed?” She jabbed a finger at the center of his chest. “Just ask, I’ll tell you.”

“Are you?” He peered down at her imperiously. It made her blood boil.

“Fuck off, ain’t tellin’ you shit.” With that, she swayed again, and his hand darted out to grab her arm.

He slowly inhaled, clearly steadying his nerves. “He warned me you would react this way.”

“Then why? Why bother, huh?”

Oda reached over, moving a finger around the edge of the empty glass as he spoke, making it sing. “Since our last meeting, I have considered how dishonorably and irrationally I behaved, challenging you as I did. I…owe you for sparing my life, that I may continue to protect Hanako-sama.” That last sentence seemed to physically pain him to say. “Thus,” he continued, “I wish to assist you towards a new path.”

“Yeah, ‘k, and what if I don’t want a new path?” She glowered at him, jaw set.

“Is the path you are on so satisfying?” His eyes were illuminated unnaturally in the dim bar light.

V looked away, then down. “I don’t….I don’t know. But there’s nothing…I don’t want your charity.”

Oda shook his head, “This is not charity. First, sober up, then we will talk. Meet me tomorrow morning at Flip Flop at 9am. Do you know the place?”

“Yeah,” she grumbled, glaring at the empty glass. “I might be there, I’ll think about it. Later, Eyebrows.”

“Eyebrows?”

“Yeah, the white eyebrows.” She pointed to her own eyebrow, waggling it. “How come y’have white eyebrows? Looks weird with th’black hair.”

He bristled visibly. “How I look is none of your concern.”

“Right,” she grinned at him cheekily, and motioned to the bartender for the bill.

“Good night, V,” Oda said quietly before he disappeared into the night, leaving a perplexed and moderately curious V in his wake.

* * *

“These are the best goddamn pancakes I’ve ever had in my life. Thank you, Oda-kun.” The little café bustled with chattering patrons as delightful scents wafted across the tables. The wait staff all wore clear, vinyl-covered flipflops. Supposedly it was all the rage in footwear pre-war.

“ _Do not call me that_. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

“Sorry,” she grinned, not at all sorry, “you’re like a prickly hedgehog. You ever see a vid of one of those things? Kind of spikey, kind of precious. Too bad they’re extinct.”

He sighed heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. “This was a mistake.”

She set her fork down and delicately dabbed a napkin at the corners of her mouth. “Aww, well, can’t say I didn’t warn you. So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about? Stone cold sober.” She was still expecting him to leap up and strike her down in a fit of rage.

He stared at her for a moment, expression unreadable, passive. “I wish to help you.”

“Why? What do you get out of it? Wait, first, back up. Are you going to try to kill me again? ‘Cause if so, let’s get that part over with.”

“I am not,” he said calmly. “Our first fight was a misunderstanding and I wished to protect Hanako-sama. The second was…” he looked away, a flicker of shame in his eyes, “a very grave miscalculation. I was arrogant, foolish, and those are not traits that aid one in battle.”

“Goro gave you the what-for, huh?”

One white brow arched, far too delicate on that face. “Not exactly. I was angry that you, an untrained mercenary from nowhere, bested me in that first fight. But even if we could battle again, it doesn’t change that I lost the first time. It doesn’t change that I misjudged your capabilities and thought myself superior when I was…clearly not.” He shifted in his seat slightly, unable to get comfortable. “When we could not fight, I knew I would feel no closure about losing. That is when I realized my series of errors and poor decisions.”

V leaned in with a grin. “So, is that an apology?” She already knew the answer.

“No.”

“Of course not,” she rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Still superior. Well go on then, tell me what this is about.”

“Let me first ask why you did not accept the other offers from Arasaka. I want to be certain we understand each other.”

V leaned in again, resting her elbows on the table. Goro trusted him, and V trusted Goro. Nothing to hide about the situation, anyway, really. She hesitated, weighing the potential dangers of telling him, and found nothing noteworthy. “Well, the offer they pushed was to turn into an engram and get shoved in some gonk’s port down the road. Could be 3 years from now or 300. Don’t trust all that scanning technology, _something’s_ gonna get cut. You can’t tell me that was all Johnny Silverhand. Not all of him. Brain’s too complex. Didn’t want to lose something important, I guess,” she shrugged before continuing, “but I also didn’t wanna do to someone else what Johnny did to me.” She cleared her throat and sat up, looking away. “It was…it was a lot. Changed me, and I can’t…I won’t. I just won’t.” She looked back to him then, unable to fully articulate the meaning of that span of time.

Oda nodded. “And the other option was not viable.”

“Nah, 6 months to live if I kept using my upgrades, maybe? And I get sicker and sicker, boiling my brain? Yeah, no. Rather burn out than fade away, like the saying goes,” she said with no small measure of amusement.

“It sounds like you chose the best option.”

“See, that’s the thing. It wasn’t. Looks like it from there, huh?” She put her arms behind her head and leaned back, looking over the café’s occupants. “But the thing is…I can’t _do anything_ anymore. I’m not….OK, you see that waitress over there?” V tilted her head in the direction of a buxom redhead.

Oda flicked a glance in the woman’s direction. “Yes, what of her?”

“Before, I could practically tell what underwear she had on, OK? With my eyes, scanning. I could see what new mods you’ve got.”

“So get a handheld scanner.”

V let out a huff, leaning further over the table again and holding his gaze. “I wake up in the middle of the night, sweating, thinking I can just…get up and go somewhere. But I gotta watch my back, right? All the people I pissed off. People I don’t even know about, wanting a piece of me. Now, I can’t aim a gun without my hands shaking. No shaking when you have fuckin’ fancy metal death arms. Soooo, I try to get back to sleep and I start sweating more, because I get scared. Hate feeling that way.”

Oda’s gaze flickered over her face. “That sounds like PTSD.”

“Fuck you,” she said, fingers tapping over the fork, fighting the urge to hurl it somewhere.

“I’m not making fun of you, V. Have you spoken with anyone about this?”  
  
“Speaking right now, aren’t I?” She cast him what she hoped was a powerful glare.

“You know what I mean. I am not a professional.”

“You got that right. You think there are therapists in Night City? They’d tell you to get in a fight or a joytoy. Are we done here?” She looked around, pensive, foot starting to twitch.

“We are not. Why haven’t you looked for a job?”

She lifted her chin. “Who says I haven’t?”

Oda leaned back slightly before he spoke. “Your friend, Panam. Who, by the way, does not understand why you won’t return her calls anymore.”

“Why the fuck did you call Panam?” V’s fingers wrapped around the fork’s handle; she really did want to stab him now.

“I was trying to find out where you were. She was of little help, other than confirming a few details I suspected and telling me amusing anecdotes.”

“Now you listen here, you twat,” V leaned forward, up and off the seat, lifting the fork menacingly, “you lay one finger on her or any of the Aldecaldos and I’ll skin you alive, cybernetics or no. You got it?” Her eyes were hard, locked on his.

Oda held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I have no desire to harm them, so kindly put the fork down before the waitress asks us to leave. People are staring.”

V flicked a glance around; indeed, most of the patrons were staring. Perhaps she’d been louder than intended. She slowly sunk back down onto the stool and lowered the fork. “Fine. OK. It’s a bluff, anyway, we both know that. Can’t do anything. I’m not….” She winced, ever-so-slightly, but Oda caught it.

“Yes?”

“Go ahead and tell me what a washup I am, Oda. I’m waiting for it. We both know I’m not a warrior anymore. Sure was though, wasn’t I? Just a has-been now.” The absolute, unvarnished truth of it: she hadn’t said it out loud before now. The words carved a path down her throat to her sternum, painful beyond measure. She’d never be somebody again. “It’s over.”

“Not a warrior?” His brows knit, confused.

“Yeah, I’ve got no sweet gear, no dataport, can’t be a netrunner, can’t punch somebody in the face and leave a dent. No swords coming out of my goddamn arms. Can’t help anyone, not the Aldecaldos, not Judy, not myself. Not a warrior.”

Oda’s palm came down hard on the table, between their dishes, causing the silverware to jump. “Not a warrior?” His voice only increased in volume slightly, but the tone caused the entire café to hush. “Do you think I am not a warrior when I sleep?”

A tinge of embarrassment touched V’s cheeks and she glanced around nervously. “Well, no, but that’s different.”

“Look at me. _Look at me_ , V.”

She did so, frozen in place, eyes locked on his, and remained silent.

“Not different. Is the child with no training not a warrior when he defends his family from an intruder?”

“That’s very specific and probably personal, but again, that’s different.”

He slapped the table once more. The waitress started to approach but he shot her a menacing glare and she retreated. “Not different. This,” he grabbed her hand and shook it, holding it up for her to observe, “is not the warrior.”

She tried to yank her arm back to no avail. He reached over with his other hand, tapping a finger to her forehead. “ _This_ is the warrior.”

“That’s not-”

“Your cybernetics did not defeat your enemies. They were a tool, you are the weapon.”

“Were. Were the weapon.”

He squeezed her hand so hard she thought it might pop. “ _Did you not hear me_ ,” he hissed through a clenched jaw.

“I heard you, I heard you! Let go, that hurts!”

He quickly released her hand. “It appears I forget my strength.”

“No, you forget that I’m-”

“Don’t say it.”

“-a little squishier.”

He snorted softly, then took a sip from a water glass before speaking, maintaining unnerving eye contact the entire time. “So that is why you do not contact your friends, the nomads? Because you feel you cannot protect them?”

“Yeah, it’s…I was a lot of help to them, and I loved doing that, seeing them flourish. But I wonder sometimes if…nevermind.”

“Please tell me.”

“You know what? I’ve told you enough. You still haven’t told _me_ what you want.” Why the hell was she spilling her guts to this gonk, anyway? Foolishness. Goro trusted him, sure, but that didn’t help much when she was on the pointy end of his mantis blades. “Nevermind. I don’t want what you’re selling.”

“I am not sell-”

“Forget it, I’m done.” She stood and promptly stormed out, patrons stepping aside to give her plenty of room.

Of course he’d catch up to her just outside the door. Of course.

“Now who is the prickly hedgehog, thief?”

She spun on her heel and jabbed a finger on his chest. It felt like trying to chisel a boulder with a paintbrush. “I don’t trust you, I don’t know you. So you can fuck right off, pancakes or no.”

He gazed down at her, expression flickering with resolve. “You have no reason to trust me, but I give you my word, V, that I have no ill intentions for you. I only wish to see you set out on a new, more favorable path.”

“Yeah? What do you get in return?” She didn’t even bother to hide the disbelief in her voice.

He snorted softly, lips quirking into a wry smile as he folded his arms. “What did you get from assisting the Aldecaldos? The brain dance editor? The rock star?”

“You called _Kerry_?”

“No, Goro told me about him, about how you helped him feel like himself again. Tell me, V, what did you get from those exchanges?”

She looked away, eyebrows pulling together. “I…Well I mean, I needed something from them at first. Then…they needed help so, I…just…did what I could.” Her shoulders lifted in a feeble shrug. “We weren’t chooms yet but got there. Is that what you want? To be friends?” She looked back at him then, surprised and more than a little amused. He didn’t look like the type to have friends; maybe she’d misjudged him.

“Perhaps. But as you helped them when they needed it, so I wish to do the same for you.”  
  
“And if I don’t trust you on that?”

“Did any of them trust you at first?”

“Nah. Probably not.”

His brows rose expectantly.

She rolled her eyes. “All right, all right. Fine. But if I get one whiff of something off, I’m telling Goro you’re an asshole, got it?”

“Understood.”

They shook on it.


	2. Fine-Gauge

V’s hands trembled slightly as she gripped the gun. “This is as steady as it gets, Oda, so if you say ‘steady’ one more time, I’m gonna clock you.”

The corner of his lip quirked briefly. “Your stance is too stiff.”

“I know how to shoot a gun, you goon, I’ve been doing this for years!” She snapped, glaring back at him before returning her attention to the task at hand. She hadn’t entirely wanted to visit the shooting range, but he insisted that safety be a priority.

“So you say.” His tone held the smirk she couldn’t see. “But I cannot tell from your actions, so you need to work harder.”

“ _Excuse_ m-” Just as she went to turn around and give him a piece of her mind, he stepped up behind her, hands alighting on her elbows. He pushed upwards slightly on one, pulling down on the other. She didn’t mind the surprisingly gentle touch.

Unfortunately, it didn’t help. Her next shot was even farther from the center.

She lowered the gun and glanced at Oda; he did not seem disappointed. Instead, he circled her, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he inspected.

“Your stance is correct. I do not understand the problem. Your shakes aren’t that pronounced. What are you thinking of when you fire the gun?”

She chewed on her lip, staring at the softly pulsating target a few meters down. “Think how strange it feels to not have a targeting system in my sight, but I learned to shoot a gun without one, years ago. Sometimes I think about the mechanic of the gun, they’re so cool, you know? The chamber, the engineering.”

“And?”

“Then I start thinking about the faces. I never killed anyone who didn’t try kill me or hurt other people, Oda. Never. I wouldn’t. Turned down some good Eddies, too. But I think about how shocked some gonks looked when I capped 'em. They woke up that day, right? Thinking it was all going fine, and then I show up and I’m the last thing they saw. The last face.” She turned to look at him. “And I wonder, whose face am I gonna see?”

Oda nodded ever-so-slightly, then reached over and carefully took the gun from her grasp. He had to tug a couple of times before she released. “Perhaps we should take a break.”

They ended up in a tea shop at the edge of the city center. Oda refused to visit the tea houses in Japantown, deeming them “unseemly and unworthy.” This tea shop was vaguely Old English in nature, though perhaps the proprietor had never seen a photo of pre-war England, since most of the displays were garishly bright. The tea, at least, was passable to V’s rough palate, though Oda turned his nose up at the green tea and opted for some fruity herbal instead.

V eyed the dessert case, finally giving in and waving over a waiter to secure a very tiny, very expensive piece of cake topped with a synthcherry.

“Hanako-sama is doing well, overseeing a substantial reorganization of the Night City side of Arasaka’s enterprises. In a few weeks, she will meet with representatives from Militech to consider a joint venture.”

“Careful with those guys, they’re shady as fuck.”

“I know,” he nodded, curling his fingers around the little teacup. “That is why I will be by her side during the meeting. Hanako-sama’s business acumen moves Arasaka forward.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty important, but can she do _this_?” V popped the cherry stem into her mouth, and a few moments later, stuck it back out again, tied in a knot.

Oda’s brows furrowed. “What? Why would she do that?”

“Aw, come on, it’s a great party trick,” V grinned.

Oda just shook his head, perplexed. “I doubt Hanako-sama would attend the same kinds of parties as you. Regardless, we should discuss your job opportunities.”

Wilting a little as she placed the knotted stem on her plate, V leaned back. “Oh yeah, got a lot of those.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Hrm. Goro tells me you have a way with electronics, perhaps you could find work in that?”

“Goro tell you a lot about me?”

Oda glanced aside, cagey. “Some. And your friends, some.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me, Oda. Tell me.” She reached over, poking him on the arm. “Tell me, Oda, tell-”

“Stop that,” he hissed, batting away her hand. “You are like a child.”

“So you gonna tell me or what? I can keep this up all day.” She favored him with her best Cheshire grin.

He made a small, annoyed grunt. “Fine. The things your friends told me gave a much different impression than what I saw of you. Goro said you were ruthless and kind-hearted. I found this puzzling, so he suggested I speak with Panam.”

“What’d she say about me?”

“That you were a close friend, someone she trusted without question, who was exacting and frustrating. This, too confused me, so she suggested I speak with the brain dance editor. She was more difficult to find.”

“Yeah, she’s outta the city now.” V found she desperately wanted another slice of cake. Maybe if she tied a double knot, it would impress him and he’d buy another piece?

“Correct. I found her contact information regardless. She said you were…” He paused for a moment, then continued, “a charmer, with a thick shell to protect yourself, and that you loved your friends, pulled them to your heart, and clutched ferociously. She said you spoke of your friend Jackie-”

“Stop.”

Oda’s jaw shut with an audible click.

Her throat ached, lips quivered for a brief moment before she swallowed it back down. Her voice was cold, low. “You think you know me ‘cause you talked to my chooms? Yeah, well, I’m not talking to them anymore, am I? Not so great a friend, right?” Something started churning again, deep in her gut, carving out little shards and gouges.

“That is not even close to what I said,” he scowled. “I want to know who you are.”

“You want an imaginary friend, go rent a BD. Maybe Judy can hook you up. You look like you could use some loosening-up.”

His brows lowered. “You make jokes, but I take you very seriously, V.”

“You shouldn’t. We done here? I got places to be.”

“Why don’t you talk to them? Your ‘chooms’ as you say?” He leaned forward, gaze holding her own.

Anger instantly licked at her veins. “Fuck off,” she spat. “Don’t want your questions, so quit it.” With that, she leapt up and hurried away. This time, he did not stop her outside the door.

She burst into a sprint, hurtling through the thinning crowds, darting this way and that. His simple question shouldn’t have _hurt_ so much. After a few minutes, she came to a halt, bent over, hands on her knees, panting. Plain old regular synth lungs took some getting used to. At least her legs didn’t register their annoyance, thank Arasaka for that.

A cig-deepened voice called to her from an alleyway. “Hey, you look low. Wanna try some good stuff?” Yeah, she’d found herself in the less savory part of town.

She shook her head, slowly straightening. “Nah, thanks.”

“You look like you could use ‘em.”

 _Fucking hell_. V spun on her heel towards the direction of the voice. “I _said_ -” she paused, taking in the three scraggly, rough forms that slowly approached. “I’m not interested.”

V looked around - the area was pretty downtrodden, with decrepit infrastructure and peeling paint on rusting metal walls and beams. She hadn’t been paying attention, hardly anyone around and those that were would ignore straight-up murder if it didn’t involve them. Amateur mistake.

Their smirks belied their secondary intentions. “Yeah, well, you got some Eddies anyway, right? Why don’t you hand ‘em over?”

She sighed internally. They didn’t look particularly powerful, and she’d been in fights before installing her powerful cybernetics, but it probably wasn’t a good idea. _Ah, fuck it_.

“Well,” she said, cracking her knuckles, “I got a better idea. Why don’t you give me yours? A donation, like a good citizen,” she grinned, shark-like.

The three goons looked at each other, temporarily concerned that their prey wasn’t giving in so easily. Then, the leader rolled his shoulders and tilted his head. “Ohhh, I’m gonna peel that pretty skin off your face, and stuff it up your cu-”

V surged forward, fist making a satisfying crunch on the perpetrator’s face. She almost didn’t notice how her knuckles ached at the impact. He staggered back, his two companions looking a little impressed before glancing at each other, then running forward.

It felt natural to drop down and sweep out her leg, hooking it behind one good and sending him hurtling backwards. The other tried to bring down two fists on her back but she rolled to the side, expertly dodging. The leader pulled out a gun and aimed it at her but she was too fast, using the momentum of her dodge to shove the heel of her hand upwards, knocking it out of his hand.

He scrambled for it and she used the distraction to barrel forward, shoving into his middle and throwing him down to the ground. This knocked the wind out of him and he lay still; she jumped up just as one of the goons threw a punch. It connected with her jaw, sending a hard rattle through her head and she staggered back.

This was what she craved; there was no better high than her body pummeling the shit out of another body.

Good Number Three let out a cringe-worthy howl – had V been outside this fight, she might have laughed. Instead, she shook off the punch’s lingering effects and scooted backwards, whirling around to kidney-punch the goon as he went by. He doubled over, whimpering, and she kicked at his knee, sending him tumbling.

_Yeah, still got it._

Goon Number Two reached down and grabbed the gun that V had unfortunately forgotten about. He popped off one loud shot, but his aim was even worse than hers, even that near, and she closed the distance, giving his face a one-two punch. He staggered backwards and she kicked the gun from his hand, grabbing it as it flew upwards.

V wasn’t confident in her shooting ability, so kneed him in the groin instead, then gave him one more punch for good measure. He landed on the ground with a dull thud, out cold.

“Damns,” she breathed, shaking out her bloodied fists as she dropped the gun. “Fucking _hell_.” As adrenalin started to decline, the pain set in and she grimaced. “Well, you fuckers, guess you were right. I did need a hit after all. Thanks for that.”

In an instant, a rough hand on the back of her head shoved her forward and down. Her face met the pavement with a painful _crack_. Debris bit into her skin, causing her eyes to water. She tried to push up, but the attacker had the advantage, pushing her head hard into the asphalt.

He whirled her around and sat on her stomach, putting a knife to her throat. The leader. She thought he was out cold, he must have been faking, or made a quick recovery. He leaned down, gaunt face inches from hers, iron-scented breath ghosting over her nose. She felt it, that rare occurrence: fear.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the last face.

“See, if we gave you a thrill, then it’s time to pay. Your head’s gonna look good on my w-” His voice cut out to a wet gurgle as something orange and sizzling poked out from the center of his neck. The mantis blade arced upwards, cleanly slicing his head in two.

The leader’s body fell sideways and V scrambled back to avoid the blood and mess, then looked up at Oda. He replaced the mantis blade in his arm – having sliced out a hole in his jacket - and held out a hand.

She stared at his hand for a few long moments before looking up into his eyes.

“You’re hurt,” he said simply, but did not move.

At last, she grasped his hand and he pulled her to her feet. He released and reached up to brush gravel from her cheek. She flinched slightly but didn’t pull away.

“Uhhh, thanks,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze.

He nodded, hand falling from her face.

“Sorry I yelled at you,” V said, voice quiet. “I’m just really…angry, you know? About all this.” She gestured to the fallen goons, then to herself. “Shouldn’t need you to save me.”

Oda nodded, then reached into his pocket and produced a handkerchief. “Here, wrap your hand in this.”

“My hand…?” V looked down, surprised to see just how mangled her hand was. “Only punched a few times,” she grumbled, awkwardly wrapping the cloth and struggling to tie it. Oda reached over, deftly finishing the procedure and tying it with a dainty bow.

“Thanks.” She didn’t meet his eyes, instead looking at his handiwork. “Not the first fight with my fresh gear. Usually end about like this. Had to run away a couple times, that’s a hit to the ol’ ego, let me tell you.”

“You did well. I watched from the rooftop.”

“Of course you did,” she smiled just a little. “Not sure if I should thank you or yell at you again.”

“I’d prefer no yelling. My ears and my temperament are quite delicate.”

V blinked, then burst into laughter. “That so, huh?”

Was that…was that an actual, tiny, itty bitty smile? On Oda? Couldn’t be. “We should take you to a ripper doc.”

“Nah, it’s fine. You got stuff to do, go buy some flowers for Hanako or something, tell her I said hi. I’ll go take care of this. Probably won’t get into any more fights on the way there.”

“Flowers?” His brows knit in obvious confusion. Was there a translation error?

“Yeah, you know, the uhhh plants with the pretty petals?”

“Yes, I know what flowers are,” he said with no small amount of irritation, “but why would I buy them for Hanako-sama?”

“Fancy ladies love that fancy shit. So if you’ve got extra time, you should do something like that.”

“I don’t understand.” Clearly he didn’t, if his perplexed expression was any indication. He looked like a lost puppy, all he needed was the quirked ears.

V rolled her eyes and reached up, patting his chest with her good hand. It was a nice chest. “You’ve got a lot to learn about ladies, choom.” She abruptly inwardly winced. _Choom_? He saves her hide once and now he’s her choom? No way. Nuh uh.

His gaze flicked down to her hand, which she quickly removed, then back to her eyes. He looked startled, then alarmed.

“’K well, uhhh, gotta go take care of this, it’s actually starting to hurt a lot now.” She gave a little wave and turned, walking away. Her cheeks had started to tint. What the hell was going on?

“I apologize for calling you a whore,” came the voice behind her.

She stopped, then whirled to face him. “What? You mean months ago? When we fought?”

He nodded. “I thought you and Goro were…together. I thought he had betrayed Arasaka-sama and you were a bad influence.”

“Oh,” she said, then tapped rubbed her chin in mock thoughtfulness. “To be fair, I woulda if I coulda, but he wasn’t interested.”

Oda’s eyes widened.

She grinned cheekily, winked, gave him a wave, then turned and hurried away.

A quick trip to the local ripperdoc – she still didn’t have the nerve to visit Vik – and she went home with a repaired appendage.

Lying in bed, she felt more relaxed than she had in weeks. Couldn’t just be the fight, she hadn’t been very good about avoiding those. Maybe the run? She’d been a bit lazy lately.

**ODA  
** [ Did you get your hand fixed? ]

**V**  
[ Yeah thx for the assist ]

She smiled a little at the text, then noticed a little warm spot right in the center of her chest.

_What? No. No nonononono._

With that, she hurled her phone across the room and onto the couch.


End file.
